Silence of the Wolves. Hannah Pole

living room and stopping in the spot she had indicated.

      ‘Now do it, turn yourself into a wolf.’

      Leyth silently hid a grin. Tam was making him shift into wolf right in front of her, in a completely open space so there was no way he could hide any ‘tricks’.

      She was smart. She was making sure it was a true change, not a trick of the brain.

      ‘OK, I’m going to shift now,’ Leyth said calmly, bending down onto his knees and calling the wolf at his core, who came happily bounding to the surface. Leyth tried his best to shift slowly, to make the change happen in a way that she could watch and attempt to understand.

      His bones began to crack and writhe within his skin. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe as the change took him. It was as intense as an orgasm; the feeling overwhelmed you, forced you to be still, to do nothing but ride out the waves of pain and ecstasy. It was all he could feel, all he could think of. Slowly his bones began to split, to bow and break, reforming into that of the wolf; his legs shortened, his ribcage collapsed, his shoulders dislocated and shifted downwards to their new position. His spine began to lengthen, forming a skinny tail as his face began to collapse and rebuild itself, forming a muzzle. His ears stretched and shifted, rising to the top of his head before, finally, the itching began. His skin distorted and writhed, giving way to black and grey fur that broke out of his pores in waves, covering him from nose to tail.

      When it was finally over, he sat back on his haunches and looked up at Tamriel, who had turned even paler. If that was physically possible.

      ‘H-h-oly shit,’ she stammered, her eyes wide and wild.

      ‘Come here,’ she commanded. ‘Slowly.’ Though it came out gently, almost a whisper, as she tried to digest the situation. Leyth did as she asked and came to stand next to her. She was sat on the sofa, wrapped in a myriad of blankets. She carefully ran a hand across his fur, wincing as she moved.

      ‘Right. Now change back into a man,’ she croaked.

      Leyth did as he was asked, reversing the process, allowing his body to break and reshape. He could feel Tamriel watching him intently, her keen eyes searching for any hidden trick, any explanation for what was happening. After all, magic rarely had a logical explanation.

      ‘Oh hell,’ she stammered when he was finally finished, eyeing him as he studiously dragged the little towel around his waist to cover himself. ‘You really are a werewolf.’

      ‘Yeah.’ His voice was hoarse, shifting twice in quick succession would do that to you. ‘So are you.’

      ‘I can…’ She absently rubbed her eyes. ‘I can do that?’

      ‘Well, we’ll see.’

      She cleared her throat. ‘That doesn’t explain why I’m not practically dying. If this wound was as bad as you’ve made it out to be, how am I still breathing?’

      ‘Wolves have exceptional healing capabilities. You’ve slept through the worst of it. We can heal a broken bone in a matter of hours. What would kill a human only wounds us.’

      ‘Right.’ She snorted, though even as she tried to laugh it off, he could see her mind working at a hundred miles an hour behind those green eyes. ‘I’ve always been a fast healer, cuts go in hours not days, bruises are gone in minutes.’

      ‘And now you’ve been through your fever, you will heal even faster. You have to as a wolf. Your body needs to be able to break down and rebuild itself quickly when you change and, as a result, can heal much faster than that of a human.’

      Leyth watched Tamriel as she tried to digest everything that had happened to her over the last few hours.

      ‘My fever?’

      ‘You went through the fever over the last few days. Doc and I looked after you.’

      ‘I was in a medical clinic, wasn’t I?’ She winced.

      ‘Yes.’ Leyth confirmed. ‘Are you OK?’

      ‘Yeah, my head just hurts,’ Tamriel replied. Crap, he realised he hadn’t even offered her a drink. He was such an arse. Shooting to his feet, he stalked into the kitchen, filled a glass with water and rooted through her drawer for some asprin.

      ‘Here.’ He handed her the water and, as she took it, her fingers brushed his, sending ripples of heat shooting up his arm. For a heartbeat he stood, staring at his hand. What the hell was that?

      ‘You should—’ He cleared his throat. ‘You should let me check that.’ He waved a hand towards her stomach.

      ‘OK,’ she said, sipping the water. She looked a little dazed still and, to be honest, he was surprised she was going to let him. Hell, this female had so much fight in her; she was so irritatingly stubborn, he had honestly expected her to fight him, to suffer through the pain and try to do everything herself.

      ‘OK then.’

      Yet as he looked at her, he could see through that strength, and he caught a brief glimpse of the vulnerable, scared female hiding underneath. The female who was in a great deal of pain, who had literally just witnessed her world come crashing down before her.

      ‘I’m going to move you, if that’s OK,’ he grunted, watching her carefully.

      ‘Do it,’ she replied, locking eyes with him. He watched that vulnerability disappear and the annoyingly cold determination fill her gaze. Carefully he moved forward, sliding his arms around her. As her skin touched his, those bizarre ripples of heat flowed through him once again.

      What on earth was happening to him? He hadn’t been with a female for Maker only knew how long. His traitorous manhood leapt to attention, making his heart thud even harder. He needed to get laid. His body was betraying him at the sight of any female, obviously. And this was one female he did not want to get involved with. Hell, he didn’t want to get involved with any female.

      Shoving those ridiculous thoughts aside, he focused on wrapping his arms around her and then lifted her fragile body up off the sofa as carefully as he could, not wanting to hurt her. Slowly, he spun her around so she was lying on her back on the sofa, and gingerly fingered the sheet covering her.

      ‘Just do it.’

      Damn, she was infuriatingly stubborn. Here he was, trying to be nice and gentle and she was barking orders at him anyway. Bunching up one of the discarded blankets, he draped it over her chest so she could cover herself while he checked her stomach. She held the blanket tightly around her breasts as he carefully slid the sheet covering her downwards, exposing her stomach.

      Leyth caught himself almost sighing as her pale skin slowly came into sight. What the hell had come over him? Telling himself to get a grip, he unwrapped the bandage on her abdomen. It was a little awkward, but this strange moment was the closest he’d been to a female in years. His heart was hammering his ribcage so damn hard he wasn’t entirely sure the thing wasn’t going to punch straight through his skin and out the other side. Goddamn he needed to get laid.

      Finally the bandage gave way to her milky skin, and as he lifted the soft gauze, the horrific wound came into sight. Lord almighty, it was bad. Though it was healing well, the wound was still huge, a circular hole as big as his own fist marred her skin just to the left of her belly button. The bleeding had stopped, but the skin was puckered and looked incredibly sore.

      ‘Holy hell,’ she exclaimed, looking down at herself.

      ‘Told you it was bad,’ he muttered, setting the bandage aside and reaching for the medical bag Doc had left behind. He pulled out some disinfectant and antibiotic cream and began to clean the wound. Tamriel hissed as the liquid hit her, making him curse internally as his eyes caught hers. She had closed her lids over those emerald eyes, clearly not wanting to look weak in front of him, yet he could see the tears threatening to spill.

      ‘It’s OK,’ he said soothingly. Damn, he was no good at this nice guy crap. Yet all he wanted to do was look after